


Torn Apart

by Poaxath



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Angels & Demons, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angels, Angst, Demons, F/M, Mutual Pining, Mythical Beings & Creatures, Past Relationship(s), Possessive Behavior
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-06
Updated: 2018-04-06
Packaged: 2019-04-19 08:00:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,143
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14232831
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Poaxath/pseuds/Poaxath
Summary: Kylo Ren is lord of the underworld. He's given everything for her, and she's snubbed him. That's okay. He's coming for her.





	Torn Apart

**Author's Note:**

> A new story?! Whaaaaat? This will not have any set update schedule (more of when I have time to work on it). So hit that subscribe button so that you can get an email when I add a new chapter! I hope you all enjoy this, and please feel free to leave a comment and let me know what you think!
> 
>   

 

 

 

 

      The horizon was dark, tumultuous clouds roiling against one another in a thunderous battle. Bright streaks of electricity scorched veins across the sky, filling the ozone with power and promise.

   He stood on a rocky outcrop, the gaping maw of a cavern at his back, arms clasped behind him as he overlooked the valley floor below. Red sands and dunes covered it as far as the eye could see, interrupted only by the yawning trenches in the terrain. One misstep would have the unlucky individual falling and burning until a higher power felt bothered enough to retrieve them.

     There were hundreds of thousands of souls down there, milling about their work. Dark points against the sea of red. Like a colony of ants, following orders from their queen, he mused silently.

   They were slaves, fodder in the wars raged between angels and demons.

   Another bolt of lightning tore the sky, painting the sands purple for the briefest moment.

   This was how it always was in his realm; a constant state of chaos and fear.

   Even against the heat of the desert, he stood garbed in black. It was an outfit fit for rulers, intricate designs dictating his rank as the highest among them. The hood of his cloak was pulled down, revealing an angular face; young, but not inexperienced. His gaze held the weight of thousands of years, as he observed the slaves below. They were preparing for war. The war to end all wars, as he had heard from rumors.

   There was a shuffle behind him, the sounds of a lesser being approaching. “My lord,” a voice said, small and meek. A coward. “We’ve just received word from the surface.”

   Slowly, he turned to look at the smaller man, full lips twisted into a sign of distaste. Every being down here was beneath him, an insect waiting to be quieted with the heel of a boot.

   “And?” he demanded, impatience high. When would these creatures learn he had no time for cowardice or uncertainty?

   “And, Your Majesty... _she_ is among the opposing troops,” he said quickly, eyes cast downward, avoiding his master’s gaze as one would a predator. His hunched spine would have made him stand out in the world of men, but here, he was just another face. Most creatures down here were disfigured in some way, either by birth or through someone else’s hand.

    Lord Kylo Ren was not known for his generosity, nor for his mercy. He was just as likely to kill the messenger and string them up as he was to let them go.

   Jaw clenching, he curled his hands into fists, looking back down to the valley below for a long moment. She was there, on the surface world. She would dare to taint her grace to be amongst the humans. If anyone would taint her, it would be him. He had been so close before, and he would have her still. Her light would die, extinguished as he drove his greatsword through her breast, even as she tried to redeem him.

   It was a dance they had choreographed together for a millennia. There would be a whisper here and there of a location on either side, and the other would come, drawn by a personal vendetta that needed to be conquered.

    His eyes wandered over the expanse of his quarters within the cavern, over the ornate wooden bed, covered in crimson silks. The very bed _she_ had once claimed as her own.

   “Open a portal,” he commanded, looking back to the hunched man. “Send a dog to scout the rumors and find her.”

   “Right away, my lord,” he bowed low, never turning his back as he exited through a side entrance in the stone wall.

   This war was going to end soon--he’d make sure of it. With a flutter of his cloak, he moved through the room, pushing images of golden skin draped in scarlet from his mind.

   In the corner of the room stood a wardrobe, expansive in its offerings of robes and tunics, custom-made to fit the large, leathery wings he bore. All demons had them, however only the most powerful were able to shift one form for a more human visage. It was a useful tool when he was required to take to the surface.

   In an adjacent corner, there was a large desk, lit with candles to cast light against the papers strewn across it.

Bending his towering stature over it, he quickly went over some of the reports on troop size and weapon counts. He would have to send orders for the smithies to double their output if his armies were to have enough blades.

   The swords, pikes, and maces produced were forged from the strongest iron, curses and enchantments uttered into the molten metal to afflict diverse effects when a strike rang true.

   While the weapons were filled with magic, they had no effect on the angels that would dare step foot into the world of man. No, the only thing that could destroy one was a demon.

   A sardonic smile pulled at one corner of his mouth as he thought of her. The woman who had once been his wife, his lover, back in a time when they had been mortal.

    He had saved her, trading his life to Supreme Leader Snoke, true King of the underworld, in exchange for hers. He’d watched her live the rest of her human life from beyond the veil. She’d grown older, continuing her quest to help humans in need.

    One of the arrangements with the Supreme Leader had been no contact between them while she was human, else the contract be rendered moot and her life forfeit. It had killed him to be apart from her, to be forced to watch through a mirror as she looked for him, to bring him back. To watch her cry herself to sleep at night from loneliness and despair.

    Eventually, she had passed from heartbreak, so the stories said. In the end, she had chosen the opposing side, opting to stay on the side of light rather than join him in the darkness.

    It had driven him mad, the brutal sting of rejection turning his heart to stone. He had given everything to her and she had chosen another path.

    The longer he was under Snoke’s thumb, the more his love for her bled away to rage and betrayal. He still wanted her for his own, but it was driven by the need to possess, to claim.

    She tormented him. The mere thought of her was enough for him to send entire armies after her. And yet she still persisted in trying to take him with her, to turn him from the dark.

    One day she would falter, finally accepting the monster he'd become, and it would be the end of Lady Rey.

**Author's Note:**

> You can also come say hi on Tumblr if you want! @thewayofthesith


End file.
